


Some of Peter's Blues: Part 2

by Alias_Slashley



Series: Daydream Disbelievers [2]
Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 16:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alias_Slashley/pseuds/Alias_Slashley
Summary: Peter faces the challenges of Davy discovering his letters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [9xblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/9xblue/gifts), [StarCollector88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarCollector88/gifts).



_Peter stood with his back against the bedroom door. He was silent; uncertain what to say or do at this point. He was paralyzed with panic, unable to even blink. His chest heaved up and down in the most movement that he could muster._

_Davy looked over at the door. He had had a delayed reaction to Peter’s entrance. Davy stared quietly at the motionless Peter. He seemed to be studying Peter. The look on Davy’s face was mysterious and unreadable to Peter. He finally stood and came face to face (well as best as he could) with Peter. Davy looked into Peter’s eyes searchingly, looking for an answer to everything he had just read._

_Davy reached up and put his hands on either side of Peter’s face. He pulled himself up quickly and brushed his lips…_

No, no, no. It couldn’t possibly be that easy could it? As much as Peter wished that the scenario would have played out like his fantasy, it didn’t…

Peter had opened the bedroom door cautiously since he had expected Davy to be sleeping and he didn’t want to disturb him. He had not opened the door all the way and Davy seemed to be in a trance, so Peter’s fight or flight reflex told him the best option was…flight! He quietly crept just as he came, confident that Davy had not noticed him. He had no idea how he would face this, but taking some time to think was better than facing it unprepared.

“Was he sleeping?”

Peter was startled out of his thoughts by Mike’s question. He had been staring at the now closed door and turned around to find Mike and Micky staring at him curiously. He leaned against the door carefully for support.

“Uh yeah,” Peter answered rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s out cold. I don’t want to bother him and seeing as I’m already wet I’m going to go back out and…”

Peter was interrupted by the swift action of the bedroom door opening, Davy reaching out and dragging Peter back inside by the shirt collar.

“Man, remind me to not wake Davy up,” Micky said.

Peter barely had enough time to process what was happening, when he was suddenly face to face with his attractive fears. The blank stare from before had turned into a questioning frown. Davy’s eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. Peter struggled to reach for the door knob to steady himself.

“Don’t try to leave again,” Davy finally broke the silence that had felt like it went on for eternity.

“I wasn’t trying to,” Peter admitted. “I’m trying to steady myself.”

“I know the feeling.”

Peter again took in the sight around him. There was an empty circle on Davy’s bed where he had been sitting moments before. Peter noted the letters that were scattered about…except they weren’t really scattered like he had initially assumed. The envelopes were stacked in piles and the letters themselves were fanned out in a circular shape and dare Peter note in order. He couldn’t see that well but from what he did see it looked like Davy had meticulously taken his time reading and organizing these letters, which was a far cry from the haphazard way Peter had them boxed up.

“I should have never gone through your things,” Davy broke Peter’s concentration on the scene. “I was looking for that old set of green maracas and couldn’t find them. I was looking under the beds and removing things. When I was putting this box back it spilled open. I was putting these letters back in when I saw that all the letters had my name on them…”

Peter tuned things out for a moment. _How could I have been so careless?_ Why put someone’s name on letters that they are never supposed to read? That was an invitation to be discovered. He could feel his cheeks flush with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. There was nowhere to hide now. He was sandwiched between the truth and misfortune. It was of his own doing.

He tuned back in and was observing Davy’s speech. There was no recognizable emotion behind it. It was matter-of-fact and distant. Not the talk that Peter was used to experiencing with him. Peter couldn’t recall a time when Davy had spoken like this at all. He was usually upbeat and occasionally feisty, but never…nothing, bland, detached.

“…before I knew it I had opened them all, read them all.”

Davy looked at Peter expectantly. He knew that Davy was waiting for him to say something, anything. Peter had no idea where to begin because he didn’t know what was on Davy’s mind in particular. Was it appropriate to apologize? Beg for forgiveness? Ask what he thought? That would be what came out of anyone elses’ mouth, but Peter’s said…

“The green maracas were broken and tossed out months ago.”

Peter wished he could take it back. He had been holding back everything he had ever wanted to say to Davy for so long. Now Davy knew and this was Peter’s chance to establish his position. To know where Davy’s head was at with all of this. But like all other times, Peter’s brain only allowed him to obstruct any semblance of self-respect.

Davy also appeared to be taken aback by Peter’s odd answer. He held the unemotional demeanor that was the new familiar. Davy stood waiting for more of a response from Peter. There was none. Peter was panicked but suppressing that panic into a nagging numbness. He didn’t realize it but his behavior was matching Davy’s to a T. Identical indifference.

“Right, then,” Davy responded. He backed away from Peter and sat back down on the circle that fit him perfectly. Davy absently began shuffling the letters into a pile and placing them back in the box carefully.

Peter watched from the doorway still unable to move from the paralyzing panic. He took note of how gently Davy was handling the letters. It was as if he treasured them and didn’t want to risk damaging them in anyway. Peter attributed this to perhaps how he was approaching Peter at this time. Davy was possibly emotionless so that he wouldn’t upset Peter in anyway during this difficult interaction. He was handling Peter with care and tenderness.

Peter wanted to reach out. He wanted to verbalize the mental notes he was taking. Desperate for Davy to know that he appreciated the delicate consideration he was taking with the letters and his feelings. Peter opened his mouth and tried to speak but no words escaped. Not even a sound. The panic and tightness were not wearing off and the more he couldn’t express himself, the more the panic set in giving a cycle of disappointment and things left unsaid. He wished he could show Davy how much he cared, but Peter only had the nerve to stare.

Davy finished packing up the box and gingerly placed it back where he had found it. When he stood up he appeared to stare in the direction of Peter’s bed instead of at Peter himself. Peter stared at Davy’s back worriedly wanting to know what was going on in his mind. All he had to do was ask.

Peter strained his throat and was able to make the sound of clearing his throat. This got Davy’s attention and he turned around to face Peter. Peter saw that the once expressionless face was pained and broken. Davy looked exhausted with a slumped body and facial expression. There were tears glistening his eyes. Peter knees buckled underneath him and he again braced himself with the doorknob. He wanted to hold Davy and tell him everything would be okay, that they would figure this out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…I don’t know what to do or say,” Peter managed to squeak out. It wasn’t the most smooth or comforting statement but it was a start and better than nothing.

Now it was Davy’s turn to be silent. Peter was sure that if Davy spoke the tears would come flooding out. Peter had only seen Davy cry once when he was potentially going back to England. The Brit didn’t cry much he was more on the happy or angry part of the emotion spectrum. Peter was sure this was unfamiliar territory for Davy and that he was having a difficult time handling these emotions.

“Please, tell me what you need, what you’re thinking.”

Davy turned away and wiped at his eyes. Very quickly he appeared to suck all of the emotions back in deep down where no one would find them. He straightened himself up and began gathering some things. Peter was confused but didn’t want to push anymore since things were already tense. When Davy finished packing up all the items he had in a bag, he moved towards the door and looked at Peter.

“I need...I honestly don’t know.”

Peter nodded absently and was finally able to peel himself away from the door so that Davy could leave. As much as Peter wanted to chase after him, he also wanted to respect Davy’s space. So instead he crumbled into a heap on the floor and sobbed through the emotional turmoil swelling in his chest.

And this was only day one.


	2. Chapter 2

Two days.

It had been two days since Peter had gone on that fateful walk and left his letters unattended. Two days since he had walked into his room and found a stunned Davy surrounded by those letters. Two days since he hadn’t said what he needed to. Two days since Davy had packed up and left to who knows where.

Peter had not been able to function in those two days. He wasn’t sleeping, eating, or interacting. Micky had commented that Peter could have been Mr. Schneider’s less sociable brother. And the ever astute Mike tried to pry the information out of Peter to no avail. Mike didn’t seem to make the connection that the departure of one and the silence another were entwined.

Peter would lie awake at night and look at the empty bed across from him. The emptiness of loneliness was gnawing away at him. He continued his vigil waiting up for Davy but it seemed as if he was never coming. Peter was a patient person and he was willing to wait forever for Davy to return. That patience didn’t stop him from wishing that the door would creak open and Davy would make stealthy movements as not to wake Peter just like before.

Some nights Peter would also stop and stare out the window. He would look up at the moon and wonder if Davy was in fact gazing at the moon at the exact same time. He took to focusing on the constellations that stretched out endlessly over the quiet California night. Peter would remember the way Davy had romanticized the rain on the pavement and hoped that Davy was being dazzled by the same constellations. Those moments would provide comfort as Peter would fool himself into thinking that Davy was pining for him in the same way. It was better than considering the harsher reality of the situation.

On this particular night, Peter’s eyes were fighting the soreness of staying awake. It felt like a failure not to wait up as well as irresponsible since this was technically his fault. What was the point in fighting sleep though when there was clearly nothing to wait up for. Peter closed his eyes. When he was awake Davy was not there but when Peter was asleep Davy was everywhere.

* * *

_Peter walked around his land of broken dreams. It was a dark, ominous forest with gnarled trees. The atmosphere vaguely reminded him of Alice in Wonderland. All around hanging from the trees as well as littering the ground were shattered mirrors. The mirrors ranged in various sizes and shapes. Some were shattered completely with glass surrounding it and others looked like someone just tapped the glass and it splintered like a spider web._

_Peter crept around the sea of darkness in search of his main objective. He was stepping over the broken glass trying not to make a sound. For some reason he felt as though making noise would scare off Davy, much like a predator sneaking up on his prey. Although Peter was far from a predator and Davy was not prey._

_He walked through the shadows searching for light. Peter felt like he had been for some time cold and alone with no feeling of relief in sight. He turned to the side and noticed his reflection in a cracked mirror. It didn’t look like Peter at all. The Peter he saw in the reflection appeared as broken as the mirror; eyes bloodshot with dark bags underneath, creases from wrinkles shaping his forehead, and a mouth straight with indifference._

CRASH

_The sound of glass being destroyed tore Peter’s attention away from the image he was entranced by. He began moving forward again with fast steps, no longer caring about the noise he was making. He walked into a clearing filled with tall; pristine mirrors all reflecting the same beautiful image. Davy. Peter called out to him and all the mirrored Davys turned around slowly. Peter couldn’t tell which one of them was real._

_“Davy, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Peter exclaimed. He reached out to touch the nearest Davy but it turned out to only be a reflection; cold and unfeeling._

_Davy stared in silence for a few moments before answering, “I’ve been here this whole time. Right in front of you. You were just too blind to see what I’ve really been doing.”_

_“What have you been doing?”_

_“Breaking these mirrors and any fragment of hope you had left about us.”_

_Davy lifted the hammer and swung vigorously…_

Peter woke up in a cold sweat. Usually his dreams were a safe place to visit the alternate realities that were comforting. But now even his safe haven was mocking him. He sat up and pulled his knees to his chest beginning to quietly shed tears. Nothing felt secure anymore. Everything was broken.


	3. Chapter 3

It was day five and Davy’s absence did not seem to affect anyone but Peter. Micky was milling away on experiments and Mike was writing songs and keeping up with making the Monkee operation run smoothly. And that was the only reason that anyone but Peter noticed that Davy was not around.

“We have a gig in two days. We need to rehearse and haven’t in over a week. Where is Davy?” Mike finally broke into Peter’s mindset. “Come to think of it I haven’t seen him in days. I’m a little concerned.”

“You’re worried about Davy but a few weeks ago I was missing for four days and no one batted an eye,” Micky protested.

“I knew where you were,” Mike answered nonchalant.

“Yeah because you got a note, I was being held for ransom by mobsters who thought I was Babyface! You didn’t even come looking for me!”

“First of all, we don’t have the money to pay ransoms, second we were down a man with Peter in quarantine, and third I knew you’d be fine.”

“How did you know!?!” Micky boomed.

“There is no way that someone that isn’t used to you can stand your presence for more than five days. I knew they’d bring you back.”

Peter was listening to the exchange but he was only partially hearing what was being said. He was going in and out of focus looking down at the beach. Watching all the happy people running around in the surf and playing Frisbee. He longed for those carefree days that now seemed so far behind.

He shook his head. There was no reason he couldn’t keep going on about his life. This Davy thing was keeping him a prisoner in his own head. This morose attitude was not helping matters it was making the days more agonizing. There was no need to keep waiting for someone who clearly wasn’t coming around any time soon. Peter was about to turn his attention back towards Micky’s complaining when a small, brunette figure caught his eye.

 _Of course!_ Peter was exasperated. Just as he thought he was going to turn a new leaf, here was the British invading again. Davy was trudging his way towards the back staircase to come in through the back way. Davy looked wistful was he wandered through the maze of beachgoers. Peter thought that he had never looked more attractive.

“Would you look at that,” Mike said startling Peter out of his gaze. “Speak of the devil.”

“Shhh don’t mention the devil, he may come back for revenge,” Micky said covering Mike’s mouth with his hand.

Mike broke away from Micky and opened the door for the approaching Davy. “Man, I was beginning to worry and wonder if you were coming back or in trouble.”

“Here I am,” Davy said plainly without explanation of anything.

Peter really took a good look at Davy. To the untrained eye Davy looked as he typically did; hair combed to perfection, clean shaven, dressed to impress. However, there were slight variations in his behaviors; the look on his face was one of someone brooding, his hands were twitching, and his body was tensed. Peter doubted that Mike or Micky would notice such subtle details, but Peter did. Also, Peter noted that the bag he had packed was not with him, meaning that potentially he was not back for good.

“Good timing because Mike was just going to begin cracking the whip on us,” Micky joked.

“I guessed that we would need to rehearse so I headed over,” Davy said as he shifted around uncomfortably.

“Over from where?” Mike asked not quite sure exactly how long Davy had actually been gone.

“Not important,” Davy dismissed the question, “Are we going to get started?”

Mike and Micky wasted no time going to set themselves up. Peter hung back wanting an opportunity to say something to Davy. He was nervous and clearly Davy was too. Peter had expected Davy to follow the other two in order to steer clear of Peter, but he didn’t. Davy seemed to be cemented to that spot not quite sure about his next movements. What he was doing though was avoiding looking in Peter’s direction. Peter wasn’t going to let that stop him.

He reached out a lightly touched Davy’s arm. “Hey, have you been…okay?”

Davy looked down at the hand on his arm for a moment before answering blandly, “Fine.”

“Can I do anything to make this more comfortable for you?”

“Space,” Davy said and departed to his instruments.

Those one word answers were cutting through Peter like knives. They were so sharp and succinct. Peter could understand needing time and space to process all the information, although it had been almost a week already. He expected Davy to respond in a more kind and compassionate way much like he did when Peter had knocked him offstage. It threw Peter off. He was crushed and empathetic at the same time. Sure he would give Davy space, if only to not make matters worse.

* * *

“Okay,” Mike said waving his hands around, “I’m calling it. This was terrible.”

The whole rehearsal was going horribly wrong. Peter and Davy both were not in the right mindset to play. Both were off key, missing notes/lyrics, and even playing completely different songs. The straw that really broke the camel’s back though was Davy letting a maraca slip out of his hand and knocking Micky out cold, which in turn caused him to tumble over the entire drum kit.

Mike and Peter dragged the unconscious Micky over to the couch. Mike crossed his arms and looked back over from Peter next to him to Davy that was still standing motionless on the bandstand.

“What is going on?” Mike asked.

Peter glanced over at a petrified looking Davy. He knew that neither one of them wanted to talk about this to each other let alone get anyone else involved in it. Davy was still silent and looking down at the collapsed drum kit instead of his bandmates.

“Just an off day,” Peter offered weakly.

Mike was not buying it, “Interesting that this ‘off day’ coincides with Davy’s absence and you’re sulking around.”

Peter had no quick response for that. He didn’t know that Mike had noticed his change in mood. Then again, maybe it was that Mike was starting to put together pieces of a puzzle. No Davy + Moping Peter = Troubled Rehearsal. Why was Mike so good at math?

“My mistakes have nothing to do with Peter,” Davy answered brazenly.

Mike turned toward Davy and cocked an eyebrow. “Oh really? Then you’re both out of sorts for completely unrelated reasons.”

“What is with the third degree?” Davy’s temper was starting to flare up. “That’s what I said isn’t it?”

“Then what are you so uptight about? And where have you been at? Because it sure as hell hasn’t been here.”

Peter was flabbergasted. Davy appeared at first to be standoffish and not want anything to do with Peter. Now here he was protecting both of them and their shared secret. He could have easily thrown Peter under the bus and told Mike that he was uncomfortable with Peter’s secret love. There Davy was again, the white knight.

“This may be the exact reason why I have been gone,” shouted the now heavily accented Englishman.

“Please, I have barely spoken to you in the past few days to give you reason to be pissed off at me.”

“This is getting out of hand,” Peter stepped in to mediate. “Look Mike, Davy and I both seem to be having a difficult time staying focused today for our own personal reasons. Maybe we were feeding off each other’s energy which only made things worse. You two getting into it is just going to exacerbate the problem. We clearly aren’t getting anywhere today. I say we reconvene at another time or just go into the gig, we do know our music.”

Peter was surprised at how calmly and articulately he had made that come out. He wanted to protect Davy’s privacy, but also his own. He wasn’t ready to face the looming embarrassment. Avoidance was a cruel friend.

Mike took his hat off and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m willing to do that. We need to rehearse the day of. I need you two to figure out your issues. I can’t have a comatose Micky on my hands.”

Peter looked over at Davy who was still dodging any eye contact with Peter. Davy gave a solemn nod and made his way towards the front door.

“Where are you going now?” Mike sighed.

“To figure out my issues.”


	4. Chapter 4

Peter spent the next day between the rehearsal and the gig trying “figure out his issues.” He needed to think things through and come to some sort of conclusion in order to move forward with his day to day. As far as Peter was concerned, currently he was closer than he had ever been. After all, the day before he had decided not to dwell on someone that was evidently not in a place to have a discussion about the letters. Then again he had also got sucked right back into doom and gloom at the sight of Davy.

The more Peter pondered the situation the closer he was coming to a realization. _He_ wasn’t the one that needed to work out any issues. He knew what had happened and he knew what he wanted. The only thing he was worried about was how Davy was feeling because _Davy_ was the one with the issues.

Davy was the person that was dragging the situation out and causing both of them to be in distress. If the little guy would just say exactly what was on his mind then he and Peter could hash things out and come up with a solution. Davy was simply ruminating over the letters. Peter was certain that although Davy was blindsided and confused, he did know his initial thoughts and feelings. And surely after a week he had a more clear idea of how he wanted to approach this. Maybe Davy was afraid to confront Peter, but he was just making matters worse.

This was an epiphany for Peter. The moment this sense of awareness entered his mind, he immediately felt a hint of relief. The tension in his body that he had been carrying around dissipated. His stomach untangled from the mangled knot it was in. Peter’s mind hadn’t felt this clear in he didn’t know how long.

This was Davy’s problem and he wasn’t going to let it hold him hostage any longer.

* * *

“Peter, I dig what you’re doing,” Micky complimented.

Ever since Peter’s moment of the clarity the day before, he had absorbed himself into the music. There was no time to waste pining and fretting about Davy’s issues. He spent the rest of his day yesterday coming up with piano pieces that they could potentially work into a new song in the future. Before Davy returned for the agreed upon rehearsal, Peter was tinkering with the new sounds.

“Thanks,” Peter blushed.

“I see that you’re in better spirits,” Mike commented strumming some notes on his guitar. “What changed?”

Peter shrugged. “I guess I realized that overthinking things doesn’t make them go away, it just makes you miserable.”

“What was making you miserable?” Mike asked.

Before Peter could answer, misery huffed into the front door in the form of Davy. He appeared agitated and keyed up. There was a fiery look in his eyes but a somber look on his face. He looked even worse for wear than he had a few days ago; the bags under his eyes were heavier, his hair was slightly disheveled (he couldn’t let himself go that much), and any facial hair he was able to grow was still lingering from days of neglect.

“Can’t win ‘em all,” Micky joked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Davy shot back defensively.

Micky shrank back behind his drum kit and stumbled to find words that wouldn’t offend Davy any further. “Oh you know…the lottery…yeah…one day I’ll catch my break.”

Davy seemed to ignore Micky’s answer even though he had been hyper focused on him a second ago. Now he was the one who had his eyes glued on Peter. Peter noticed right away. Boy, was that a twist. There was now a longing in Davy’s eyes, like they were begging Peter to make the effort that Davy couldn’t. Davy’s stance looked defeated his shoulders were slumped and he looked as if he could barely hold up his own body.

Peter wasn’t biting though. For the first time he felt apathetic towards another person’s struggles. He had finally taken the guilt off himself and there was no way he was going to shroud himself with it again. The ball was in Davy’s court. If he didn’t want to suffer through this anymore it was his responsibility to do something not Peter’s. That didn’t mean Peter no longer cared for or wasn’t in love with Davy anymore, it meant that he needed to focus on himself. Selfish, yes. But being selfish is not always a bad thing. If Davy wanted to talk about or have a decent friendship with Peter then he was going to have to make the effort.

Peter still had some sense of compassion though. He got up from the piano and picked up Davy’s maracas and tambourine. He walked towards Davy, grabbed his wrist and led him over to his place on the bandstand.

“Here you go,” Peter said offering the instruments. “Do what you do best.”

Davy looked down at his instrument filled hands and then to the reassuring smile on Peter’s face. He managed to whisper, “Thanks.” Peter squeezed Davy’s shoulder and walked over to his bass, slinging it over his back.

* * *

“Well that went better than expected given the events of two days ago,” a pleased Mike said. “No one got a concussion or a sprained anything, as far as I’m concerned that’s a win.”

The gig was far from perfect. Davy was very preoccupied with his own thoughts and was making small mistakes. Much like Peter had done the night he tried to impress Davy with his dance skills. Davy’s charisma onstage was also nonexistent. Usually he would move around stage interacting with everyone playfully, but tonight he stayed in one spot as if his feet were glued to the floor. He was shaking the maracas and tambourine so listlessly it was almost like he wasn’t there. He wasn’t even flirting with the throng of girls in the front row. Those girls eventually became disinterested and went back to their tables.

“I for one am exhausted!” Micky exclaimed. “It takes a lot of energy to be this good.”

Peter rolled his eyes. He sat in the back of the Monkeemobile across from Davy. Davy was obviously distracted in thought. He was staring at his hands in his lap chewing on his bottom lip. Peter took the opportunity to gently offer comfort without coming off pushy like he may have a few days earlier. It was the least he could do since Davy had always been there for him after those less than perfect performances.

“Hey,” he said lightly touching Davy’s arm. “You did great.”

Davy looked at the hand on his arm and then abruptly shifted the arm away from Peter. He continued to stare down and not make eye contact. “I was bloody awful.”

This time the gesture of distance didn’t faze Peter.

“You did the best you could given the circumstances,” Peter continued undeterred. “Anyone else would have given up. That took guts.”

Davy just nodded and turned his attention to the window.

When they arrived back at the Pad, Peter expected Davy to be on his way back to wherever he had been hiding out. Instead, Davy laid his instruments in their usual place and trudged into his shared room with Peter.

Mike and Micky were staring at the closed bedroom door in as much surprise as Peter was.

“Even though he looks defeated,” Mike said, “he must have somewhat resolved those issues.”


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Peter woke up and glanced over at the no longer empty bed across from him. He couldn’t believe things were back to normal, at least sleeping arrangement wise. Though it had only been a week of Davy not being home, it felt like eternity for Peter. He felt a mixture of emotions creep in; relief that Davy was back, pleasure in being able to be near him again, frustration that old feelings were flooding back, and disappointment that no matter what he tried the Brit just kept pulling him back in.

It was very difficult to divert his attention. Peter looked away and let out a deep sigh. He couldn’t let Davy catch him staring since it took him so long to be comfortable staying in the room to begin with. He decided leaving the room and letting Davy have some time alone was the best option.

As Peter went to walk out the door, he couldn’t resist taking in the sight. It was different somehow. Usually Peter could barely notice Davy in his bed. Davy was always snuggled up with his blankets wrapped tightly around himself in a cocoon. This morning, Davy was sprawled out haphazardly across the entirety of his bed. The sheets were no longer wrapped around the mattress and the blanket was in disarray only draped Davy’s body from the knees down. Davy’s face was twitching in and out of drowsy discontent with a frown and furrowed brow. Looked like a restless night and a rough one at that.

Peter made a note to continue treating Davy with kids’ gloves as he had yesterday. Offering him support without edging into making Davy feel uncomfortable. He also wasn’t going to make too much of an effort to engage Davy. He could do that, after all this was Davy’s issue.

He exited his bedroom and was greeted by the ever vigilant Mike.

“So how was the dismal Davy last night?”

Peter shrugged, “Looks to me as if he had a tough night of tossing and turning.”

Mike shook his head, “Man, wish I knew what’s got that guy so wound up.”

_Better that you don’t._

“I’m sure he’ll sort it out sooner or later. He always bounces back.”

“I don’t know, Shotgun. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this hung up on someone before.”

Peter paused a moment taken aback by the astuteness of Mike’s theory. “You think it’s a…girl?” Peter asked carefully.

“What else hangs that guy up? Relationships are his weakness, and by the looks of it I’d say he’s got it bad. And I’m guessing there’s some conflict or else he wouldn’t be so distraught.”

“What kind of conflict?” Peter inquired trying to see if Mike knew more than he was letting on.

“Oh, could be a number of things. She doesn’t reciprocate his feelings. He’s afraid to tell her, unlikely but it could happen. He’s scared of her old man. He doesn’t know if she is the right person for him.”

This new revelation from Mike renewed the hope that Peter had been suppressing. Who was he kidding; even though he was trying to avoid his Davy infatuation didn’t mean it was gone. All those old feelings overcame all the others and Peter was back to square one. Although, the plan to tread lightly was still on the table.

“Maybe you could talk to him,” Mike suggested breaking Peter out of his thoughts.

“Me? Why me?”

“You two have always had a bond between you. And you’ve done so well managing your own issues these past few days maybe you could give him some pointers.”

“I don’t know if I’m the best candidate for that, Mike…”

“Listen, I need everyone to get out of this funky Monkee trend we have going on, before Micky catches it. It seems airborne.”

Peter nodded. This was a horrible idea. Deal with Davy or defy Mike. This was a lose, lose situation. Peter did know that he would have to confront Davy sooner or later because there was no way of moving forward otherwise.

_Great Mike! Way to screw up the plan._

* * *

Peter snuck back into his room a few hours later. He was going to appease Mike’s request but was silently hoping that Davy would still be in a disheveled, sleeping heap. That way he could stick to the plan and avoid the situation longer. He quietly clicked the door closed and turned around to find Davy sitting on his bed absently staring at the crack in the wall that ran from floor to ceiling.

_I can’t catch a break._

“Hey buddy, how ya doin’?” Peter asked attempting to sound as casual as possible.

Davy only turned to him blankly and stared. Peter assumed that it was Davy’s way of saying, ‘How does it look like I’m doing?’ This was going to be a challenge.

“Look, I’m guessing you’re still having a difficult time of sorts with those letters you read,” Peter began as Davy turned back to the crack without as much as a nod. “I think it would be helpful if we could talk about it.”

No response. _This was going well._

“I believe sharing your thoughts and feelings with me about it would help clear your mind, you know. Get it out in the open instead of bottling it up inside. It may be difficult to say and for me to hear, but I can take it. I promise.”

Not even a flinch.

“Okay, still not in a place to talk about that…how about we talk about something else,” Peter recommended as he searched his mind for the right topic. “Remember…the time…we…fought the foreign spies for that microfilm that was in your maracas?”

Peter choked out a fake laugh, but didn’t get any response from Davy. “Okay, maybe you forgot that one…how about…when Mike ran for mayor?”

Davy turned to Peter. Instead of the menacing blank expression he had been sporting he was now exhibiting a look that Peter could only call annoyed.

“I can see you’re not my biggest fan at the moment…and that’s okay. I just want to make things right. I don’t like seeing you like this. Let me know what I can do.”

Davy made a slight head nod movement towards the bedroom door. And Peter could take a hint. He left the room with the hope he had gained back deflating. It was Davy’s issue alright, but now that issue was seeping over and really doing a number on Peter.

* * *

Davy burst out of his bedroom door some hours later with determination. The shift was so unexpected that Micky fell out of his chair. Davy went towards the phone and dialed a number. He began speaking into the receiver in a hushed tone.

“What did you say to him?” Mike asked amazed.

“I don’t think anything I said was helpful at all,” Peter grumbled.

“Well, you did something because he’s out and about now.”

_Oh, I did something alright._

Davy hung up the phone and proceeded to go towards the front door. He was stopped in his tracks by the quicker Mike.

“What was that all about and where are you going?”

“What’s it to you?” Davy snapped.

“Whoa, whoa. I was just wondering since you’ve been nonexistent for the past week.”

“Plus you’re still wearing your pajamas and robe,” Micky pointed out.

“Oh, right,” Davy said looking down. “I called up Daisy and am taking her out.”

“Daisy?” Peter was nearly strangled by the name.

“Yeah that’s right.”

“Hasn’t it been over a month since you saw her?” Mike asked.

“Yeah usually you get bored easily and don’t go back,” Micky chimed in.

“Yeah, well, I guess I was inspired to do things differently,” Davy said shooting a scowl at Peter. “I need to get out of here for a bit.”

“Not to criticize you being out of your funk, but you haven’t even been back here a full day,” Mike offered.

Davy started making his way towards his room, “Apparently that was too much.”

Yep, Peter did something. Now if he only knew what part of it was so wrong.

* * *

Peter found himself still up at midnight. He was staring at the front door from his perch at the kitchen table next to Mr. Schneider. Mike and Micky had drug themselves to bed two hours ago. Peter wanted desperately to do the same, but there was something tugging inside of him demanding that he wait up for Davy.

He wasn’t completely sure what he was planning on doing when Davy arrived or even what kind of mood he would be encountering. What Peter did know was why he was waiting up. Firstly, it was the curiosity of how this date went. Secondly, it was to ease his own mind about Davy actually coming back and not leaving again. And lastly, Peter needed to talk to him about this hasty need for a date. This issue Davy had going on was again becoming Peter’s issue and he didn’t like where it was headed.

Peter’s eyes continued to grow heavy as his nerves grew more unsettled. The time was ticking away and the likelihood of Davy not returning was increasing. He longed for the days where he would suffer in silence as Davy droned on about the ever changing love of his life. Peter slumped onto the table with his head resting on his arms. Surely a short snooze wouldn’t cause him to miss anything. He closed his eyes and began the arduous task of trying to decipher his dream world.

He had not been asleep over two minutes when he was awakened by the sound of a slamming door. Peter shot up and searched for the figure he knew would be lingering. Davy was near the door seething; his teeth were gritted together, his eyes had a fire behind them, he was wringing his hands together while pacing, and if Peter didn’t know any better he would say there was smoke coming out of his ears. Interestingly enough, Davy also had fettuccine noodles in his hair and in random places on his body.

Peter waited a moment as not to startle Davy and to think of the right way to approach the situation. He didn’t expect for Davy to come home mad, he more expected sad Davy or in love Davy. He needed to approach the situation without looking like he was fishing for information or that he was over eager or annoying. What would be the best thing to say first?

“Hey, do you want to talk about it?” _Smooth, Pete. Real smooth. You thought that through and that was the best you had?_

Davy stopped moving and turned towards Peter in surprise. It was obvious that he had thought he was alone. Now was the moment of truth would Davy speak up or continue his vow of silence.

“Of course, you’re here right now,” Davy threw his arms up in exasperation. “No, I don’t bloody want to talk about those damn letters right now. I’ve had a terrible night…week and a half actually. The last thing I want to do is discuss that!”

Peter was taken aback by the sudden outburst of emotion and speech. That was the most Davy and Peter had spoken to each other in practically a month, with Peter avoiding Davy and then vice versa. Peter took a deep breath in to clear his thoughts before he immediately responded.

“Wow, I may play the dummy but I am for sure not one. I can clearly see when it is not an appropriate time to bring something up. I was wondering if you wanted to talk about why there is fettuccine in your hair. Obviously that is too difficult of a question and I’ve struck a nerve.”

Peter slowly got up from his chair and put his hands in the air in surrender. “Noted though. No more questions…about anything I guess.”

He made his way towards their shared room and hoped that Davy didn’t follow him. This was one night where Peter wished that Davy had stayed away. Was it better to know Davy’s frustrations and be yelled at or to suffer with the looming silence? Peter contemplated this as he curled up under the blankets. He wasn’t sure of the answer to that question, but he did know that this was the last straw.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter was still livid about Davy’s outburst the night before when he woke up the next morning. All he had done since the letter bomb dropped almost two weeks ago was tread lightly and give Davy time and space. He was through with this avoidance and blatant disrespect. Peter could understand a need to figure out how to approach the situation and getting your thoughts together, but this hostile despondency was too much. He was ready to confront Davy with no holds barred. Davy wasn’t getting out of this anymore.

Peter realized that Davy was had not been in their room all night, which was completely fine with him. Seeing Davy’s face was the last thing he needed. While beautiful, Peter was too angry to get sucked back in with shallow pretenses. Upon Peter exiting their shared bedroom, Davy was still nowhere to be found. Mike and Micky were already milling about the pad when he emerged.

“Morning, Shotgun,” Mike greeted.

Peter nodded in recognition and surveyed the scene. It looked as though Davy had made himself a makeshift sleeping area on the chaise and then left in a hurry with all the bedding strewn about.

Micky noticed the inquisitive nature of Peter. “He wasn’t here when we came down here. He sure has been acting funny lately. Why didn’t he sleep in his own bed last night?”

Peter shrugged. “He came home in a foul mood last night and snapped at me. I said something back and he must not have liked it.”

Micky was no longer paying attention though. In the middle of Peter talking he had wandered off to the closet and was digging around.

“I think we need to have a talk with him and straighten this all out. I’m getting fed up myself with this ‘woe is me’ attitude,” Mike asserted.

Peter felt fear envelop him. The last thing the two of them needed was Mike and Micky getting involved. It was bad enough that the two of them were dealing with this. Plus, Peter wasn’t ready for everyone to know about this, hell he wasn’t even ready for Davy to know still. He was about to protest the idea when Micky emerged from the closet.

“Davy schmavy,” Micky said waving his hand around, “if he wants to be miserable just let him. As for me, I have to go see a man about a horse.”

Micky strolled out of the front door and started the Monkeemobile before Mike had time to register what he said.

Mike abruptly stood up and ran for the door. “Wait! What are you about to do?”

Peter was alone in the pad. He was glad that the two of them left so that he could follow through with his plan to confront Davy with no outside interference. The only problem was Davy was not around to confront. Peter sighed and sat at the kitchen table with his guitar and notebook. He was ready for the long haul of waiting for Davy to come back.

* * *

It was four hours and two rough drafts of songs later before Davy was back. Thankfully Mike and Micky had not returned yet to throw a wrench in his plans. Davy appeared stunned to see Peter obviously anticipating his arrival. He quickly made an effort to walk back out the door, but Peter was there at lightning speed to close the door again.

“You’re not leaving again,” Peter said sternly.

Davy was still the epitome of indifference, not speaking or even making eye contact with Peter any longer. In order to escape the trap set for him Davy walked towards the back door.

“I think you’ll find escape is impossible,” Peter stated. “I had a lot of time on my hands.”

Davy glanced at the door that was bolted closed. There was no way to undo the bolts without a substantial amount of time and effort. So he retreated into his room. Peter rolled his eyes and made his way in there too. _Funny that he thinks I will give up._

Peter entered the bedroom and found Davy lying on his bed facing the wall. His body looked tense and his arms were folded. Peter could only image the look on Davy’s face. He was beyond the point of caring if Davy was ready for this or not. It was happening.

“Okay, if these past two weeks have taught me anything it’s that you’re not too thrilled to be talking to me,” he began. “I’ve been holding back these feelings and I’ve got some things to say to you. Any objections?”

No stirring whatsoever from the other end.

“Fantastic,” Peter said sarcastically. “I’ve been wasting so much time hoping that you would come around. I honestly believed in you and your ability to care for me. I’ve been giving out chances and all you do is let me down. My faith in you is fading. Now I’ve got tired of waiting and wondering if you were ever coming around to talk about this. And I know you gave me an opportunity the first day, but I wasn’t prepared.”

Peter paused for a moment to see if there was any type of reaction; movement, talking, breathing…nothing.

“Ah, there’s that silence that cuts me to the core. And that’s the thing, our friendship is breaking down we almost never speak. I almost don’t even feel welcome in this friendship.”

Peter took another pause for a deep breath and to regain courage to say what he needed to.

“Anyway, you found my letters. You weren’t meant to. I wrote those in an effort to get over this absurd crush on you. I knew it would never work out. That you could not possibly reciprocate my feelings, so I did my best to move forward. The process was tough. It was like I was constantly taking two steps forward and three steps back. I had a realization that day; things were going to be tough when mending a heart. Then there was the major setback. Everything came flooding in when I saw you with those letters. I felt panic, frustration at myself, sadness, and if I admit it a little relief that it was out in the open.”

Peter was pouring his heart out now and he got no impression that Davy was even listening. This was fueling his fire and passion in the conversation. Even if Davy still was acting this way, at least Peter would get everything off his chest. He sat down on his own bed.

“I tried to put the pieces back together hoping to be good as new. But every day the heartache grew a little stronger. Everything about you would haunt me with you no longer around. Without you here I needed to settle my own anxieties with foolish hope. I would close my eyes and pretend that you wanted me too, that you need time to solidify that belief.”

Still nothing.

Peter sighed. “I have the same old heartbeat that is filling the empty void I’m feeling. I thought I knew you now I’m not so sure.”

Davy finally shifted a little. He sat up and looked Peter in the eye for the first time in a long time. Peter could have sworn that Davy was looking at him in anger and disgust. Davy uttered no words and stood to walk towards the door.

“Sorry, was I out of line? Did I say something way too honest to make you run and hide like a scared little boy?”

Davy stopped reaching for the door knob and tensed up even more. Apparently Peter had struck a nerve. Peter was hoping that at least Davy would yell at him. It would give Peter some indication of what was on his mind. However, Davy only stood still obviously waiting for Peter to finish. At least he had some sense of decency.

“I don’t understand why you’re pretending that this means nothing to you. How you can be so indifferent to even our friendship. It’s like you can write me off so easily now. Unfortunately, I can’t. No matter how much pain this whole scenario is causing me…I still love you. God help me, I’m still in love with you.”

Davy’s body seemed to soften a bit.

“Why are you afraid to be in love, to be loved? I mean I know it must be tough to be loved and potentially have the weight of those words on your shoulders. But I would think that maybe even if the love wasn’t returned, that you would want our friendship to be salvaged.”

No response.

“Maybe I asked for too much,” Peter concluded.

After a few moments of lingering, Davy must have sensed that this was all Peter had to say and he was once again gone. Peter’s heart ached for the response that he received, but he was proud of himself for stating his case. Now it was fully Davy’s issue again, Peter had done all he could do.


	7. Chapter 7

_Ring, Ring_

Peter had not moved from his position on his bed since Davy had walked out hours ago. He was satisfied with the way he had handled things, but that didn’t take away the sting from Davy’s reaction. Peter had been hoping for some kind of hint as to what would happen in the future with their friendship and/or relationship.

Peter sighed and trudged over to the telephone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Shotgun,” Mike’s voice spoke on the other end.

Peter had completely forgotten that Mike had followed Micky on a mysterious and no doubt ridiculous errand this morning. He hadn’t heard anything from them all day and really wasn’t in much of a mindset to notice that they hadn’t returned.

“Oh hey Mike. What’s up?” Peter tried to sound as normal as possible.

“Well, I knew you must have been worried seeing as we have been gone nearly ten hours already.”

Peter looked at his watch. 6:00 PM. Was it really already the evening? That meant he had been in his own room nearly six hours.

“Yeah,” Peter lied, “what have you guys been doing?”

“Long story short, when Micky said he was going to ‘see a man about a horse,’ he really meant it. We became privy to information about these guys selling black market horse meat as beef. And now we are roped into helping the police take down the operation and going undercover. Never a dull moment. I always know it’s never a good idea to follow Micky anywhere.”

Peter was barely paying attention to the story. The only thing he really picked up on was the Mike and Micky were not going to be around any time soon.

“When do you think you guys will be back?”

“Well, we won’t be doing anything else with the situation today. And honestly, I have no idea what they have in store for us until right before it happens. They are trying to keep everything hush-hush as to not tip anyone off, I guess. It maybe tomorrow, it could be a couple days. Plus we are not even near Malibu right now and it will take some time to travel back.”

“Where are you exactly?”

“Can’t tell you too many details now. It’s classified. We will update you as to when we are coming back. Ok?”

Peter let out an irritated sigh. “Sure, Mike.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing. I’m just not looking forward to hanging out with the temperamental Davy. That’s all.”

“I get that. I think what he needs most is some support. Even if it’s quiet support and you keep your distance.”

“Don’t worry, distance will be kept. I’ll talk to you later, Mike.”

Peter hung up and pondered this new development. It was going to be uncomfortable being around Davy after that interaction. On the other hand, not having Mike or Micky as a buffer or diversion would allow them an opportunity to discuss things more freely in the pad. Peter was not optimistic or pessimistic about the likelihood of this happening, he was realistic. Davy was clearly still not in the mood to talk about anything. And as of now he was as he had been since he found those letters…gone.

* * *

Today it was officially two weeks since the letter incident. Peter awoke to Davy’s unslept in bed. It looked just as he had left it the day before. There was an indentation in the blanket from where Davy had been sulking while Peter poured his heart out. The more Peter had thought about interacting with Davy in Mike and Micky’s absence, the more nervous he felt about it. He was dreading every minute of the day.

It took all his effort to actually see if Davy was around the pad. Peter cracked the door of the bedroom and peeked out into the rest of the pad. The makeshift bed looked much as it did the day before meaning Davy hadn’t slept there. He left out a sigh of relief and made his way toward the bathroom to start getting ready. Ready for what Peter wasn’t sure, he just knew he could no longer let Davy’s mood overtake him too.

Peter got into the shower and let the warm water and steam wash over him. It was a cathartic feeling like he was washing away all the negativity from days past. Out of nowhere though, Peter felt the familiar sting and warmth of tears spring into his eyes. He had not cried since that awful day two weeks ago and he thought that he had that under control. He wasn’t quite sure why now the tears were flowing, but it must have been a buildup of multiple emotions over time. This was the perfect place to let that all out. The water would wash away the tears as if they were never there. Peter could even fool himself that the tears were not there.

He was putting the final touches on him getting ready to go somewhere. He decided to go back to that space on the beach under the dock on top of the rocks. Peter remembered it as a calming space that he was able to come to conclusions about his struggles last time. This was the perfect place to do some reflecting. As Peter went to zip up his jacket and was about to head out the back door, he heard some shuffling going on in Mike and Micky’s room upstairs.

Peter was positive that he knew what the noise was from and made a point to go out the door and loudly shut it. He hid out of sight so that he could not been seen and still be in view of the staircase. Sure enough, a few minutes after Peter ‘left’ Davy emerged from Mike and Micky’s room in his pajamas. Apparently he had decided to stay in there since those two were still gone. The question was, how did he even know that they were gone when he hadn’t been there when they left and Peter hadn’t told him anything.

Peter really didn’t care about the answer to that right now. He watched as Davy descended the staircase and went into the bathroom. Peter was not going to stick around and spy on Davy’s every move. Maybe some time alone would do the Brit some good. Perhaps he was so moody because everyone was around and there was always the threat of answering questions. Peter was happy to indulge him in alone time, because he himself did not want to be around Davy.

* * *

The tide was beginning to rise higher and Peter decided that it was time to go. He had been pondering and avoiding Davy for quite some time now and he needed to go back. Some things that had come to his mind during this time were realizations not about Davy this time but about himself. He had spent the past two weeks so focused on Davy’s actions and reactions that he had not been aware of what Peter wanted and needed.

Peter still got butterflies in his stomach around Davy, but since the letters were read it seemed that half of the butterflies and fluttered away. Maybe those letters had done what was their intended purpose. Sure Davy was never meant to read his intimate thoughts and the letters were just supposed to be an outlet for letting feelings out, but in Davy reading those Peter recognized that now more than ever he was actually moving forward from Davy. It was slowly and it had not even halfway happened yet, but Davy’s behavior as of late was so off putting that Peter no longer saw him in the same light. Finally, the initial purpose of this whole endeavor was falling into place. With more time and disappointment this dependency would be kicked in no time.

Peter felt more at peace with himself than he had in a long time. It was a long and arduous process, but a smooth sea didn’t make a skilled sailor. He had to take the ups and downs, the ebbs and flows of the waves in order to get to his destination. And like the sea there were moments of calm and serenity that were too good of an incentive to pass up. Every other time he had come to some conclusion about this whole Davy debacle, he eventually got pulled back out to sea. But with each time he was becoming more and more skilled at bringing himself to shore.

Upon arrival back home Peter saw that there was no sign of Davy. He didn’t know if that meant he had left or was hiding out upstairs, but it didn’t matter right now. Peter was going to live his life without the limitations set by the fear of the unknown. He went into his bedroom to change into regular clothes.

Right away Peter observed something was different. There was a cigar box placed in the middle of his bed. He was curious and approached the box noting the insignia of the British flag. Did he mean to leave this here? Peter went to move the cigar box over to the opposite bed. The box was so flimsy that the contents spilled out all over Peter’s bed. He began to stuff the paperwork back inside and was surprised at what it was. There were all sealed envelopes in the box addressed to Davy and numbered in Davy’s own handwriting.

A mixture of confusion and shock engulfed Peter. The letters were very much like the ones Peter himself had written; only his were also addressed to Davy. Were they placed on his bed intentionally? Was he supposed to read these even if they were not addressed to him? Something told Peter in his gut that these letters were intended for him as the audience. He sat on his bed still dumbfounded by the discovery and sorted the letters in numerical order. When he was finished organizing the 51 letters, he carefully unsealed number one and read:

_Dear David, #1_

_Struggling with the news that one of my best friends has had romantic feelings towards me for quite some time. I am not sure how to feel or react to this. I tried to talk to him about it but he just seemed to freeze and not want to talk about it. Maybe that’s for the best right now for me to clear my head too. I’m sure the answers will come to me sooner or later. I made a quick decision not to stay at home tonight. I think we both need space. Not exactly clear on how long or anything, but I assume I’ll know when the time is right._

_-Davy_

And the next:

_Dear David, #2_

_I’ve slept on it and had a moment to reflect on my feelings. The truth is I feel an immense amount of guilt. It’s my fault that I could lead someone on and act in such a way that gets people hung up on me. It happens more often than I would like and I need to reevaluate my way of life. I can’t go around forever breaking hearts and adding another name to the long list of might-have-beens. Poor Peter! He is a gentle soul lost among the waves and trying to come up for air and I’m like the tide that keeps pulling him in deeper and deeper to the surf. Probably the responsible decision to keep myself scarce and let him get over me properly like he has been trying to do. I can’t forgive myself for ruining all the hard work he has put into this._

_-Davy_

There were letters that explained so much about the occurrences and the state of mind that Davy had been in:

_Dear David, #13_

_Well I overreacted today. I feel like a horrible person. Peter was so kind and welcoming to me after all this mess I’ve been putting him through and I don’t have the where with all to tell him anything. I mean I guess I can’t because that’s how this process works. I’m letting my guilt and self-hatred get the best of me. I can’t even focus enough to get through a simple rehearsal. And to top it all off, I’ve gone and dragged Mike into this by arguing with him. I’m sure that’s the last thing Peter and I need is nosy Nesmith trying to smooth things over. I wish I knew what I wanted to happen. How I want to approach this. The truth is though; I am just as baffled by this whole thing as I was the day I found out. Being away has not helped me come to any sort of conclusions. I think I’m going to go back and face it. It could be helpful to be exposed to my anxieties and see where I really stand._

_-Davy_

_Dear David, #42_

_That could not have gone more terribly. I thought being around Daisy again would give me perspective about whether or not I wanted to continue on this path. I thought I would speed up the process because I don’t have time to waste. And I did not consider that maybe she wasn’t ready to take things to that next level. I guess I read the signals wrong or maybe my wires are just constantly crossed these days. Apparently, making too lewd of a comment to a girl gets fettuccine dumped on your head. To me it wasn’t even that bad of a comment, but I guess more than she was ready for. Can’t blame her. And I’m sure that’s the last I’ll be seeing of her. I’m mad at myself more than anything, but in true Davy Jones fashion it didn’t come off that way. I lashed out at Peter who has been patient through this entire ordeal. So much for trying to make things better. Now they are worse than before. Peter ever the docile person let me have it and he had every right to do so. Things just keep getting lost in translation because one of us is offering ourselves up and the other is not picking up the signs. Maybe I’m asking too much of him now to keep being patient with me and my mood swings. Something has gotta give soon._

_-Davy_

Letter after letter, Peter read about Davy’s own feelings and the inner thoughts about what was really going on these past two weeks. Peter had misinterpreted and not known how much of the hostility Davy was experiencing had nothing to do with Peter but how Davy actually felt about himself. The letters were also vague and unsure. Davy didn’t come out and directly state if he wanted to pursue a relationship with Peter or let him down easy or even any which way he was considering Peter except for feeling guilty. The letters provided little answers to the most important of questions and he was down to the last one:

_Dear David, #51_

_Knowing is impossible without_

And it ended there. Peter turned the stationary over in hopes that the rest was written on the back. Davy had stopped mid-thought and not finished his letter. Did he know that? It seemed strange to Peter to seal an unfinished letter, but then again Davy wasn’t himself lately. Peter wracked his brain trying to decipher what the end of this sentence could be. Knowing is impossible without…Knowledge? Being? A brain? What was it?

Peter thought aloud to himself, “Knowing is impossible without…….What?!?”

“Action,” a voice answered.

Peter looked up and Davy was leaning against the door jamb. He looked different than he had these past two weeks. Dare Peter say more relaxed. Davy was leaning casually without body tension and his arms folded across his chest. He was no longer the semi-disheveled shell of his former self. Davy was very much the essence of flawlessness that Peter was envisioned him as. Peter drunk in the sight and all the butterflies were back. They hadn’t left they were just lying in wait for the right moment.

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted, “No, no. You did quite a bit of talking yesterday. It’s my turn.”

Peter closed his mouth and gestured for Davy to come in and continue. Davy stayed where he was at in the doorway and continued speaking.

“It is impossible to know how I’m really feeling about the situation entirely when I’m not willing to do anything about it. I need to take action and well here it is. This situation had really thrown me. I mean finding out that you have been living a lie; that things are not as they appear to be is tough. It’s no one’s fault. I just needed reflection.”

“So that meant not talking to me?”

Davy smirked at Peter talking. “That’s how this works isn’t it? You take two weeks to write down your innermost thoughts and avoid the other person like the plague. That’s what you did. And I needed somewhere to start so I needed someone to show me the way.”

Peter blushed. It was true he had been avoiding Davy during the time he was writing those letters. Though not to the same extent of ignoring like Davy had but it was starting to make sense.

“I had to give myself the time and space to be sure I was thinking everything completely through. I was stuck though. All I was thinking about was finding the letters not as much about the content of the letters. The person behind the letters. The sentiment in them. I really needed all that reflection even though it was tough on both of us,” Davy said. “When I fall in love I take my time. There’s no need to hurry when I’m making up my mind.”

Davy looked down and flashed his genuine smile. Peter was floored. Did Davy just say he was falling in love? With Peter? He knew his mouth had dropped and there was no way he could pick it back up.

Davy laughed when he noticed the look on Peter’s face. “You heard me right. I realized that I may have some deep underlying feelings for you that have been manifesting themselves in different ways. It occurred to me that in life some things just make sense, and one of them is you and I.”

“What does all this mean?” Peter asked mystified. “I guess what I mean is I’m having difficulty wrapping my head around all this.”

“This is the very first page not where the story will end.”

Peter stood as if powered by some outside force and approached where Davy was standing in the doorway. Davy turned so that the two were now in close proximity in the doorway facing each other. They both knew what the next phase was. It was the first kiss it had to be flawless and really something meaningful.

Davy straightened up and began fidgeting and appeared to be a ball of nerves. “My hands are shaking. I’m not usually this way.”

Peter snaked his arm around Davy’s back and pulled him closer. “I’m a little more brave.”

To be continued…


End file.
